The Origin of Man: The Pokemon World
by RyanFO117
Summary: Daniel's world is dying, but there is another. This is how he gets there. Hate summaries. This is a story about why humanity exsists in the pokemon world. I don't know what I'm thinking...


**I was writing this story to get my self published when my friend told me "This would make a good fanfic!" and I decided to write it as that too. I don't exactly know where I'm going to go with this one so if you have any ideas I'd love to hear them. Also, I will be excepting OCs since there will be a lot people in this story, most of which I have yet to think of. I may even use them in my real book (I'd give you credit of course!)**

**Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, own or profit from Pokemon. This story idea is mine, as is Daniel.**

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_Even now that day is clear in my mind._

I used to think that the sixteen years considered to be my life was boring. And that fact seemed never more clear as I sat in my basement playing COD: Black Ops, my little sister watching as my KDR slowly plummeted downward. I didn't even know why I was playing, I had two tests to study for and a project due in two days... oh yeah, that's why I was playing.

But, eventually, I was just fed up with it. I turned off the xbox with an aggravated sigh and walked up stairs, quickly realizing that my sister was right on my tail.

"So is dying over and over is how you play that game?" she said.

"No, it isn't," I responded, slightly irritated by the fact that I couldn't tell whether she was mocking me of if that was a genuine question.

"Then your not very good,"

"No, really?" I turned around and knelt down so I was eye level with her, "How about when you come up with a question, that doesn't point out the obvious, you come ask me it in my room, which is where I'm going. Shun!" I ended by waving my arm in a cutting-the-air motion between the two of us and running away, as fast as the hardwood floors would let me, toward my room.

In my room I felt relaxed, it was my personal asylum. I could always find peace within its walls. It wasn't that big, but it had everything I would ever need to survive say... a zombie apocalypse... In my room no one could tell me what to do, how to act, or how to live.

It was a security I would soon realize that I would feel for the last time.

I was awoken from my trance of doing my favorite activity(absolutely nothing) by the ring of my phone from my bedside table.

A message from my best friend, Fox:

**Yo A7X concert at MSG tonight! u in?**

That cheered me up, a concert with one of my favorite bands. Just one problem...

**IDK, my parents aren't home...**

How embarrassing.

**Well just make sure you have an answer by 6 k?**

I looked at the clock on my phone. It read 4:55!

**Talk about short notice...**

**Hey, I'm lazy**

I rolled my eyes, though I don't know why.

**Fuck off**

**Give me answer!**

I heard the front door open and shut and I smiled to myself.

**I will.**

With that, I closed my phone, dropped it in my pocket, and sprinted downstairs thinking of the best way casually suggest me going to a concert, then remembering I don't have the time.

"Mom, Fox wants to know if I can go to a concert with him tonight,"

"No,"

Hopes crushed, good mood killed. I stared at her with my usual look of exasperation when denied something I want.

"OK, give me one good reason why I can't go." I told her, sort of harsh, I know, but she knows I didn't mean to be rude.

"I don't trust his parents taking you to a concert,"

"C'mon! What have they ever done?" I crossed my arms over my chest. "They drove me to Canada last summer!"

"That's totally different, though," My dad chimed in. Thanks dad!

"Actually, I'm pretty sure a trip to a different country, even Canada is risky than going to the city for the concert."

She turned to me and gave me the I'm-gonna-ask-you-a-question-and-you'd-better-not-lie stare.

"Did you finish your homework?"

"Yes," Too easy.

"Will it be over before midnight?" dad again.

"No promises," I admitted.

My mom sighed. "Keep your cellphone on, OK? I'll be checking on you frequently,"

Victory! I thanked her and hugged her, before grabbing my wallet and walking toward the door. I decided I would text Fox on the way to his house but, (and I just realized this now) would never have the chance.

When my hand was inches from the handle of the front door heard what sounded to me like a loud thump (though as I think back I don't know why my brain interpreted it as such). I turned around to see if everything was alright but didn't make it one step from the door.

I heard the door get kicked open but was barely able to register the fact as the door hit me in the back, knocking me to the ground. Before I could try to get back up my arms were being forced behind my back and handcuffs were forced onto my wrists. Several men dressed in black body armor and helmets stormed into my house, one of them pointed a shotgun at my head and told me not to move.

When the handcuffs were tightly fastened to my wrists I was hauled up and dragged out my front door by two of the armored invaders.

It was at that point that the shock finally faded. "Hey! What the fuck are you doing? Get your hands off me!" I started to struggle in their grasp but their grips held steadfast.

I was half way across my front lawn when I realized they were forcing me toward the open back doors of a van.

"God damn it I said put me down! You can't do this!" I continued to shout. But I was silenced by a scream coming from behind me, immediately recognizing it as my sisters. I turned my head around and just barely saw my sister and my parents being dragged out behind me. My sister, like me was being shoved into another van but my parents were being pulled toward the garage. As I was forcefully inched toward the van my sister was much more easily thrown into the one next to it.

Just as I got close enough to put my foot against the back bumper, I turn my head back toward my parents. They were pressed against the garage door guns pointed at their heads. My mother was crying, my father approached them and tried to plead with them, but he didn't even get a word out before he was shot. I watched as this man shot three rounds, all entering his chest, and wanted to scream, but couldn't find the air. My fathers eyes rolled into the back of his head as he crumpled to the ground blood spilling from the holes in his chest, soaking his shirt and pooling on the ground. My mother tried to run to him, she too didn't make it far. Three more shots crackled through the air. One hit her in the hip, another in the neck, the third one missed. A look of shock and sadness was frozen on her face as she fell on top of my fathers body.

My body went limp and, noticing the sudden lack of resistance, was tossed into the van. The impact knocked some sense into me and I got back to me feet as fast as I could shouting at the top of my lungs. I can't remember what I had said. When I was on my feet again I made for the door.

One of them met me with the butt of a gun that struck me in the temple.

And everything went black.

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**R&R!**

**-RyanFO117**


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